I sometimes wonder if my character flaws outweigh my best character attributes. I have an impossibly hard time fitting into a box. I rebel against conformity. I throw my first at regularity. I ‘m never on time. It takes me months to do something that should take a day or two. But what I’m good at, like really really good at…is getting lost. I love getting lost. Lost in the moment. Lost in time. Lost in the smell of a crisp winter ocean breeze. Lost in the way the light hits the point of the trunk of a tree where it enters the ground, reminding me of the beautiful shape of a woman’s hips. Lost in the colors of life, of breath, of existence. Lost in the rhythm of my own two feet hitting the plush and terribly uneven moss lined floor of the coastal rainforest. Lost in the possibility of infinity, of forever…that’s what I’m good at.